


The Change You Wanted

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Series: Phone Booth [2]
Category: Phone Booth
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 12:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They always made it seem so simple in the movies, but Stu lost everything when he came clean. Everything, that is, but the one man who never gave up on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Change You Wanted

They always made it seem so simple in the movies. Former asshole has a change of heart, lives happily ever after. Part and parcel, right? The reward for doing the right thing?

It wasn't so simple for Stu Shepard. He tried. The threat of the man on the phone - the man who had walked up to him while he was in the ambulance, plain as day - held true. So even when things started to fall apart, he stayed decent. Stayed truthful. But more and more he began to realize that the only thing he'd ever been truly good at was lying.

Three months after the incident, he received the first phone call. Just to check up on him, the caller said. To let Stu know he was still keeping tabs on him. Still watching.

Things got worse. He tried harder, and failed more. The beautiful apartment he'd had with Kelly was lost, he couldn't afford it doing the kind of work he was honestly qualified for. He moved, then moved again, finally ending up in a tiny bachelor pad with a leaky roof and noisy neighbours. He hated it.

The man called more often. Just to check up on him of course. Gradually, the calls came closer and closer together, until he could expect them almost once a week. And somehow, somewhere along the line he stopped hating them so much, and found himself anticipating the next one. Trying to guess when he'd call, what he'd say. Talking more, opening up. Like the man was a friend, and not some homicidal psychopathic stalker.

He was drunk the first time the voice told him, low and husky, to touch himself.

Like he always had, he obeyed. He woke up the next morning feeling dirty and used, but somehow more alive than he'd been since he stepped out of the phone booth.

He swore it wouldn't happen again, that he wouldn't give in to the man's demands. What could he do to him now, after all? But he did, time and time again. He wanted it. He started to live for it. So ironic, wasn't it? That the man who had ruined his life was now the only thing he looked forward to?

"I can't do this anymore," he said firmly one night, in a sudden fit of resentment. Who the hell did this man think he was?

There was silence for a moment, and he wondered if he'd finally managed to shock the voice on the phone. But when he spoke again, he sounded just as amused, just as superior as he always did. "Really? Because it seems to me that you rather enjoy it, Stu."

"Yeah well, believe it or not I can't just survive on your phone calls. Did it ever occur to you to consider what our lives would be like after you were done fucking with us?"

"I thought I was still fucking with you. Or at least fucking you." A soft chuckle.

"You know what I mean, dammit!" The words came out angrier than he intended, but perhaps that was a good thing. "Look. This whole living live honestly thing? I really kind of suck at it. In case you actually gave a flying fuck. Not that you'd know anything about living an honest life."

"I know more than you'd think, Stu. Does this mean you're giving up?"

"Would it make you actually show your face instead of hiding behind the damn telephone?" His anger made him bold, bolder than he'd been in a long time. "No, I'm not giving up. I just need to focus on something other than waiting for your damn phone calls."

There was silence for a long time, and for a brief moment he wondered if the man had put down the receiver. Then he spoke again. "There's a bank of pay phones on Broadway and third. The last one will have a phone number written on the back splash with the name Archie. Come to the phone, call the number. You'll receive further instructions."

For a moment, he wanted to tell the man to fuck off, hang up on him. But they both knew that he wouldn't. "So your name is Archie?"

A laugh. "You know me better than that, Stu. But if you follow my directions, I'll think about telling you my name."

"And that's all?"

"Wait and see. Now, should I expect your call?"

He gave a soft sigh, staring at the door of his shabby apartment. "Kelly left me."

Maybe it was his imagination, but the voice sounded somehow gentle. "I know. Why do you think I'm still calling you?"

Stu leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes against it all for a long moment. He could end it, he could. He could just say no, and it would all be over. He needed to say no, like he'd decided he would, long before this phone call came. "... I'll call."

"Good." And then the line went dead.

~~~~~

 

It took him almost half an hour to get to the phone booth, by taxi and then on foot in twilight New York, wondering the whole way why the hell he was doing this. But the number was there, as promised. For a good time, call Archie. He leaned against the booth divider, clicked open his cell phone and dialled the number.

"Hello Stu. I'm impressed. You're extra dedicated tonight."

"How do you know I'm not looking for Archie?"

A chuckle. "Caller ID, you're smarter than that."

"All right. So what are my instructions?"

"Come home."

"You're at my house?"

"I'm in front of your mailbox, Stu. There's a key inside now. If you can find out what it's for, you'll get another clue."

"Oh come on. You're going to make me go on some fucking wild goose chase - "

"Think of it as a treasure hunt. If you give up, you don't get what's at the end."

"A bullet through the brain?"

"I would have shot you long before now if I were going to. Stop being angry and think, Stu. What is it you want? What is it you really want?"

"I want my life back. I want - I want Kelly back."

"You want a woman who wouldn't stand by you when you decided to make an honest living? Come on, Stu. Don't deceive yourself."

He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. Maybe I don't know what I want."

"Well, I'm glad you can admit that. Maybe by the end of the night you'll have figured it out."

"Look. I'm really sick of playing your games...."

"Jay."

"Jay? That's your name?"

"No, but it starts with a J." He chuckled, and despite himself, Stu still found it as arousing as he always did. "Just a bit of incentive, since you've done so well so far. Now, come get the key from your mailbox. Don't take too long. You don't want to miss your target."

"Miss my target? What target?"

"Talk to you later, Stu." And then he was gone.

~~~~~

There was a key in his mailbox, but it looked more like a locker key than anything else, with a neat little tag labelled "309". Beside it was a note that simply said "Switch things around. You'll like what you end up with. J."

Great. Locker 309, and a target he might somehow miss if he took too long. And his only clue was this goddamn note? In frustration, he flipped open his cell phone again, and called the last number. It was out of service, not that he was surprised. The number the man - J - had called from earlier was out of service as well. Like they always were.

He went back up to his apartment, put the key and the note on the table while he made himself another cup of coffee. 309. Switch things around. J. What was meaningful, and what was junk?

He dug out the unused yellow pages and looked under 309. He looked under switch, around, things, jackass, anything he could think of. But there was nothing that looked like it would have lockers. Finally he wrote down both phone numbers the man had called from, and stared at them.

Switch things around?

He swapped the second and third groups of numbers, to make two new New York phone numbers. The first number he called woke up a very angry sounding woman who told him to fuck off in what possibly sounded like three different languages. But the second....

"J and S Rent a Locker, how may I help you?"

His heart stopped. "I'm sorry - who is this?"

"This is J and S Rent a Locker. Can I help you with something?" The woman sounded a little confused.

"You have lockers?"

He could hear her trying not to laugh. "Yes sir, that's what we do here."

"Where are you located?"

"We're on 47th west and 35th street. By Penn station, sir."

Penn Station. Miss his target... a train? He grabbed the key and was out the door even before he'd answered, leaving the coffee untouched on the table. "Thank you. Thank you so much m'am. I'll be there soon."

~~~~~

The taxi driver ended up with a rather larger tip than he'd intended, but the man had gotten him to the locker rental ten minutes earlier than he'd expected. He ran in, showing the key to the woman at the desk, who gave him a little amused smile and pointed him down the hall.

In the locker was a single train ticket and two twenty dollar bills, nothing else. He read the ticket over twice before it finally sunk in. Acela Express, New York to Baltimore. 9pm. New York to fucking Baltimore? He expected him to go to Baltimore?

He put the ticket back in the locker and slammed it shut, getting half way down the hall before he turned back and grabbed the ticket again. 9pm, twenty minutes to get to the station and find the train. Twenty minutes to make up his mind. He started for Penn Station anyway... he could decide on the platform.

He bought an egg salad sandwich out of the vending machine when he arrived, which was dry and had too much mustard. It didn't make the decision any easier, as he paced the length of the train platform. An entire train ride to Baltimore was a long way to regret the decision. But then again, the rest of his life in New York was an even longer time to regret not getting on the train.

And really... what did he have left to lose at this point?

The Acela Express arrived, and he got on, finding his seat next to the window and sinking into it, suddenly weary. Watching the platform move by him as he left the station, he finished the end of the sandwich and leaned his chair back, wondering once again why the hell he was doing this, and still not having an answer for himself.

His phone rang five minutes later, a private number. He answered it with shaking hands. "... hello?"

"Stu. I hear you're on the train. I'm impressed. I didn't think you'd make it."

"Yeah, well, I'm here now, and I hope you're not fucking jerking me around. Do you know how much it costs to buy a ticket back from Baltimore?"

"Of course I do, Stu. I bought your ticket. Now, you might as well relax, you have almost three hours ahead of you. Have a nap. I'll call and make sure that you're awake before your stop."

"And you'll be there? Are you on this train?"

A chuckle. "Of course not, I'm one ahead of you. So don't waste time looking for me. Just relax."

He yawned despite himself. "Why are you doing this?"

"I thought it might be nice to switch things around a bit. Time for a change. Don't you think so, Stu? You want a change, something more than what your life is like right now?"

"The last time my life changed I lost everything," he growled, resisting the urge to hang up the phone.

"The last time your life changed, you gained the ability to stop being an asshole. Forget about Kelly. She didn't deserve you. It's time for you to take control of your life again."

"And just how the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"Wait and see." The voice sounded far, far too smug, and he bit his tongue on an angry retort.

"Fine."

"Get some sleep, Stu. You've been very good so far, very dedicated. It won't go without reward, I promise you."

For a moment, Stu was afraid that he meant more phone sex, but the man said nothing more, and after a moment he gave a sigh of relief. "Okay. I'll keep playing your game for a while longer."

"Good. Sweet dreams, Stu." And then he was gone.

Stu considered the day old paper that had been on the seat beside him, then the free magazines in the seat back pocket. But in the end, he just took the caller's advice, leaning back in his chair and quickly falling asleep.

~~~~~

 

"Good morning, Stu. You have twenty minutes until Baltimore Station. Did you have a nice nap?"

He blinked sleepily in the light of the train, glancing out the window. It was pitch black outside, lit only by the occasional streak of light as the high speed train whizzed through the countryside. "I guess so."

"Good. Now, listen carefully. When you get off the train, take the express shuttle to the inner harbour. Catch a westbound taxi outside of the Hyatt. Continue for twenty blocks, and you'll find an apartment building across from a convenience store. Get out of the cab at the convenience store - if you don't have cash, use the two twenties that I left for you. Buy something to eat if you're hungry. Then cross the street and walk down the alley behind the apartment building until you find a blue sedan with out of state plates. Do you think you can do that, Stu?"

"You're not going to snuff me, are you?"

"You're so paranoid, Stu. But no, I give you my word that I will not harm a hair of your pretty little head. Now, I recommend you use the washroom before the train stops. You may not have a chance for a while."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"While I appreciate that an intelligent mind will ask questions, yours get a little tiring sometimes, Stu. Take a piss. I'll see you later."

The phone clicked off, and Stu glared at it for a long moment, then gave in and did as the caller asked, like he always did.

 

He called again while Stu was in the cab. Another unnamed number, but the same voice, like a rich, throaty purr. "Hello, Stu. I hope you're finding your way."

"Why the hell are you sending me on this wild goose chase anyway?" he half-growled, staring angrily out the window. But the truth of it was, the closer he got it, the tighter the knot of excitement tied itself in his core. It was the same kind of anticipation he felt when he thought about waiting for the man's phone calls, but tenfold. He had to be setting them up for a meeting. What other explanation was there?

"I told you that already, Stu. Change. You want it, I want it. Believe it or not, you're almost finished your treasure hunt. Are you excited?"

"Thrilled," he tried to say as sarcastically as he could, but the man on the other end of the phone only laughed.

"Your sarcasm is adorable. Did anyone ever tell you that, Stu? Ah - looks like you're almost there. I'll talk to you again soon."

He slipped the phone back in his pocket as the cab stopped, paid the cabbie and went into the convenience store. He wasn't particularly hungry, and in the end he just bought a pack of breath mints, chewing on two as he left the store and crossed the street, walking toward the apartment building. The alley he turned down was unlit once he passed the apartment building, and he had to walk slow, squinting in the darkness at the plates of the parked cars that he passed. How the hell was he supposed to tell what colour they were?

The first car he found with out of state plates - West Virginia plates, strangely enough, was parked behind a dark coloured panel van. He stared at the plates, then the car. Was it blue? What was supposed to happen next?

What he didn't expect were the arms that slipped around him silently from behind, the sweet smelling cloth that one hand clamped over his mouth and nose while the other pulled him tight up against the warm body behind him. "Don't struggle, Stu," came the soft purr in his ear, a voice he hadn't heard in person for over a year, though so many times on the phone.

A rush of desire shot through him as the drug took hold, and he couldn't have struggled even if he wanted to. He felt dizziness and darkness wash over him, and gave into the welcoming warmth of oblivion.

~~~~~

 

When Stu awoke, he was warm, and his head ached. It was still dark, but that was due more to the blindfold tied over his eyes, and when he tried to spit out the mouth full of cotton, he found that it was actually cotton - or something similar at least, stuffed in his mouth, tied in place. His hands were tied behind his back, as well as his feet. From the sound and vibration, he seemed to be in a moving vehicle, wrapped up in a blanket.

... in his underwear.

He pondered this for a moment. He didn't hurt, other than his head. So he hadn't been raped or otherwise mishandled. Where the hell were his clothes? Was it supposed to keep him from running away? He tried to call out - probably not the wisest thing to do in a kidnapping, but he had no doubt on who this kidnapper was, and he knew that the man had undoubtedly planned this all well enough that crying out wouldn't matter either way.

The vehicle continued moving, however, and after a short time, he gave up. The caller would do things on his own schedule. He always did.

The van slowed, and the noise of traffic lessened. He thought that perhaps they'd pulled off onto a smaller road, then knew for certain that they'd pulled off onto a dirt road, bumping over gravel that was more than a little uncomfortable from his place on the floor of the vehicle. It must have been that panel van, some part of his mind clued into. And he'd walked right into the trap, willingly. A lamb to the slaughter.

The van stopped, and for a moment, there was only silence. Then he heard the sound of someone moving toward him, kneeling beside him, felt the blanket over his face pulled back.

"Hello, Stu."

God, he'd forgotten how much more appealing the voice was in person. He felt fingers trail over the side of his face, and moaned despite himself. Why was he moaning? Why the hell was he turned on? He was tied up in the back of a goddamn van, kidnapped and thrown around like a sack of potatoes. He ought to want to punch the bastard out, not to... to....

His face was cupped gently, tilted up, and he felt the man's breath whisper softly against his skin, felt his lips brush warmly against his bottom lip, then capture it, sucking on it gently, felt his tongue flick lightly against it. He was moaning again, trying to press closer, trying to encourage more sensation, hips arching against nothing but ridiculously turned on just from that strange kiss.

The man chuckled softly, one hand still cupping his face, and drew back, though he could still hear his voice very close. His fingers stroked over the cloth that held the gag in place. "I'm sorry about this, Stu, I really am. I do so enjoy your voice. But there are precautions that must be taken, even for you, hence the blindfold.

"But I've already seen what you look like," he tried to say, though it came out only as a series of 'murrs' and gurgles.

The man chuckled, and Stu felt his lips press against his forehead. "Hush, Stu. You can put that pretty voice of yours to work when we get to where we are going. In the meantime... I believe I promised you a reward for being so obedient, didn't I?"

He felt the blanket that was over him pulled back more, felt nimble fingers smoothing over his undershirt, down his side, and he moaned again through the gag despite himself, drawing a sharp gasp as the man's fingertips whispered over his partial erection. His hips arched up into the touch before he could stop himself, but the hand pulled back, leaving him thrusting against nothing. He heard another laugh, soft, but not taking mirth at his distress. The laugh was pleased. "Do you trust me, Stu?"

Stu hesitated, then managed a nod, and heard approval in the voice. "Yes, of course you do. You've proved it, haven't you. I'm very proud of you." He felt the man lean over him more, heard his voice right by his ear as his fingers made contact with his cock again, stroking him slowly through the fabric. "Do you want this, Stu? What I've been teasing you with on the phone for months? You want me to give it to you?"

He nodded, not even hesitating. He would have begged for it, if he hadn't been gagged. The fingers curled around his cock through the thin fabric of his boxers, stroking him slowly with a soft, appreciative noise. "All ready so hard for me. Did you like my little game, Stu?" The voice lowered, grew huskier, and it just made him want him more. "Did it make you ache for it? Do you think about me when you touch yourself at night, or just when you're on the phone with me?"

Stu was nodding, whimpering assent, anything to keep it going, to encourage him more. He felt the hand slip down the front of his boxers to wrap around his erection, and cried out against the gag, arching up into the touch. He felt the man trail kisses slowly along his jaw, stretching out next to him, felt him capture his bottom lip again with his own, sucking at it with a low groan. "Pretty little Stuart in your raspberry suit. I never would have killed you. It would be a sin to silence that sweet voice."

He fought against the gag, fought to return the kiss, whimpering helplessly, but heard only a chuckle, low, approving. Husky with desire. "Just relax, Stu. There will be plenty of time for that later. Just relax, and let me hear how much you like this, how much you've wanted this." He felt the man's lips on his throat, on his chest, moaned as the pad of his thumb rubbed slow circles over the head of his aching cock, slick with precum, rubbing it into his skin. "That's it... moan for me, Stu. Show me how good it feels. You want more? Show me. You want me to suck it? Your beautiful cock in my mouth? Tell me."

He went almost wild at the thought, moaning at his words, hips bucking up into his touch, and if his hands had been free he would have clenched them in the man's hair and forced him down to his dick. He heard another pleased chuckle, and felt the man move down more, felt a hand clench his hip to hold him still, fingers curling around the base of his cock as a hot, wet swipe of the tongue ran up the underside, making him cry out against the gag at the rush of sensation.

"That's it, Stu. God, you're so hot for me. So hard. Your cries are so beautiful, did I ever tell you that?" He felt lips against the tip of his erection, sucking lightly, teasing, licking, then parting to take his head in his mouth with a low, appreciative moan, tongue pressing firmly up against the underside, against the sensitive spot just under his head that almost made him come right then and there. Then the mouth pulled back, breath cool on his wet skin, voice throaty and pleased. "It's why I kept calling, you know. I could have just watched you, I could have just jerked to you wandering around your apartment shirtless. But I wanted to hear you. I wanted to make you moan."

The mouth closed over his head again, sucking hungrily, taking him deep into his mouth until his lips met where his fingers were stroking the base of his cock. He pulled back, almost away, then did it again and again, groaning around him, finally pulling back to speak again. If it was anyone else, Stu would have cried in frustration when he stopped. But this was part of it, and it pleasured him just as much as the touch, hearing that low, husky voice, the words that he said. "God, Stu, you taste just as good as I imagined. And your moans are so much more pretty in person. I'm going to make you scream later, would you like that? In pleasure, don't worry. Amazing, overwhelming pleasure. Earth shattering. I won't hurt you, Stu. I want you."

He believed him, he did. He arched helplessly into the mouth that took him again, hand moving away from the base of his erection as the man swallowed his cock, deep into his throat, again and again. The fingers slipped between his thighs, gently stroking and massaging his sack as the man swallowed him again and again, licking, sucking, groaning around him helplessly, the vibrations of his voice only intensifying the hard thrums of sensation that shuddered up his spine. He tried to groan a warning as he felt himself pulled quickly close, though he was sure the man could feel it, feel the overwhelming pleasure pull his body tense, feel him tremble helplessly, feel the pulse of ecstasy that burst through him as he shuddered and came, spilling hot and slick in the man's mouth. The man took it all with a groan, sucking gently, coaxing him through his climax with soft, appreciative moans, then pulling back slowly, licking him clean and tucking him gently back into his shorts, wrapping the blanket back around his body.

He was still shivering, still whimpering with the aftershocks of overwhelming pleasure, and he felt the man's fingers stroke through his hair, felt his lips press to his forehead. "My sweet, obedient little Stu. You've been so good. So very good. This won't be for much longer, just another hour or so, I promise. All right?"

He managed a nod, dazed, a soft whimper of assent. What the hell had he gotten himself into? But... oh god, it had felt so good....

"Good." Another soft kiss, this time to his ear, sucking gently at the lobe. "My name is John, Stu. Part of your reward. Just like I promised." He felt his head lifted, felt a cushion slipped underneath before the man pulled away, and he heard him moving back toward the front of the van. "Relax, nap if you can. It won't be much longer."

It was more comfortable with the cushion, and once they got off the bumpy road and back onto the highway, it was easy to relax, to let the sleep of sexual satisfaction take him.

 

~~~~~

He woke when the van turned onto another bumpy road, which jostled him most uncomfortably against the hard floor of the van under the blanket. He tried to pull his knees up to his chest, to curl up in a ball, and it helped, a little. The road went on far longer than he would have liked, but finally the van slowed, pulling on to paving again, then soon after stopped. He heard the sound of a garage door closing, felt and heard the driver's side door of the van slam shut. For a moment he panicked, thinking the man - John - had left him there, but then he heard a sliding door open beside him - they must be in the panel van - and heard the man climb in to kneel beside him, pulling back the blanket.

"We're here, Stu. I'm going to take off the gag. I'd appreciate it if you don't yell - there isn't anyone around to hear you, and it will just give us both a headache. Can I trust you, Stu?"

He managed a little nod, and felt the fabric untied, felt gentle fingers pull it away, pull the wad of fabric from his mouth. He spit it out, gasping, trying to get the taste of the cotton out of his mouth. "Thank you."

The man's voice sounded amused. "You're welcome, Stu. You've become such a polite young man. I'm so impressed."

"Kiss me," he whispered, and the voice fell silent. For a moment, he thought he'd said the wrong thing.

"What was that, Stu...?"

He wet his lips, turning his face toward the sound of the voice. "I asked you to kiss me...."

"You did, didn't you." He felt the man's fingertips trail across across his face, felt the pad of his thumb trace his lips. He shivered despite himself, kissing the pad of his thumb. "You could have said a million things to me, Stu. Why that?"

He swallowed hard. "I want it."

"That's strange. Because I seem to remember you telling me you'd happily kill me with a great big smile on your face."

"That was before...."

"Before what, Stu?"

He shivered, wondering why he was asking this. "You know what."

"Perhaps. Perhaps I don't. Perhaps I want to hear you say it. Tell me, Stu, what changed your mind. What made you obey me tonight without question, knowing the danger you could end up in. I could have taken you out at any point in your journey tonight, and no one would ever know that it had been me. I could still kill you now, you realize. Out in the middle of no where, in a van rented with your credit card number, and a photocopy of your drivers licence. I have been planning this for a very long time, Stu. So tell me now why I shouldn't kill you."

He felt the knot of anxiety in his stomach tighten. "Because you don't want to. If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it by now."

"Maybe. But maybe I just wanted to play with you a little more. It's been so fun this past year, hasn't it?"

He felt himself shudder, tried to choke down the sorrow. "Please don't say that. Don't say it didn't mean nothing to you."

"We're not talking about what it meant to me, Stuart. We're talking about what it meant to you. Now, tell me why you're here. Tell me why you kept taking my calls when you knew I had no leverage over you. Tell me why you got on a train to Baltimore just because I asked you to. And tell me the truth."

He could feel tears soaking through his blindfold, and choked, trying to draw a deep breath. "Because I thought you were the only one who ever really cared. Everyone who liked me - my wife, my friends - all they liked was the lie. They didn't like who I really was. They didn't want to be around me. Everyone left me but you. Everyone gave up on me but you. That's why I came."

There was silence for a long moment, and then he felt the warmth of the man's breath on his face. He wet his lips, trembling, trying to move closer, but strong hands on his shoulders held him down. "John...?"

"Say that again," the voice murmured, warm and low, and he could feel the words trail over his skin. "Tell me what you want from me, Stu."

"John. Please... please kiss me."

At first there was just his breath, just the same tease. Then a brush, ever so gentle, so fleeting, against his lips. He moaned despite himself, not able to keep himself from trembling, from begging. "John, please..."

Ah... there. The soft press of another's lips to his, then firmer, yearning. Different than a woman, different than anyone he'd ever kissed, all strength and angles and surety, the slight roughness of stubble against his own. His lips parted eagerly for him, tongue darting out to taste the man's lips as they caught at his, sucking at his top lip as the man's locked around his bottom, tracing the angles with his tongue. He couldn't help but return the kiss, couldn't help but moan and arch closer to him, not even realizing until now how much he'd wanted this, wanted to feel the man kiss him, feel the strength of the desire he'd always heard in his voice but never physically felt. He felt the man's tongue press into his mouth, tasting faintly of mint, tasting him, exploring him, claiming him with more than a little need.

Finally the man drew back, and he felt his forehead rest against his. "You're beautiful, Stu. I always thought so. Do you believe me?"

"Yes," he whispered softly, eyes closed behind the blindfold, mind reeling and every nerve in his body feeling almost hypersensitive, craving more. "What you did earlier... that was so good...."

A soft chuckle, a gentle brush of the man's lips against his. "I'm glad you liked it. Would you like me to take you inside, Stu? If I untie your legs, you'll cooperate, won't you? You won't try to run?"

"No. I have no where to run to." He swallowed hard, and drew a shuddering breath. "And I don't want to run."

"Good. I didn't think so." He felt the man's palm caress his cheek, and then the blanket was pulled the rest of the way off, and his legs were untied. The man helped him out of the van, guiding him with his hands and his voice, steadying him. "I'm sorry about the blindfold, Stu. I'll take it off once we're inside, but I can't chance you seeing the plates at this point. Not until I'm sure, and you're sure."

"Sure of what?" he asked, and heard a smile in the voice.

"You'll find out later. Now step up... two steps... good." Stu heard a light flick on, and could faintly see light through the cloth of the blindfold. A door was shut behind him and locked, and he turned his face toward the sound, but stood patiently otherwise, the floor under his stockinged feet smooth and a little cold.

He felt fingers trail across his cheek, over his lips, and tried to kiss them, something which earned him a soft, pleased chuckle. "Would you like me to take off the blindfold now, Stu?"

"Please...."

"Since you asked so nicely." He heard the man move behind him, felt a soft kiss pressed to the name of his neck. Then the knot at the back of his head was untied, and the dark fabric pulled away. "Is that better?"

The man who stepped around to face him was much as he remembered, though different. He was clean shaven now, and previously dark hair that had been slicked back was a sandy blonde and very short, sticking up in tufts that looked fluffy and inviting to touch. The glasses were gone as well, leaving blue eyes that watched him, well shaped lips turned up in a curious smile.

"You're better looking than I remember," he said, and the man laughed.

"Why thank you, Stu. The shorter haircut is very attractive on you as well. And it's nice to be close enough to see your big brown eyes." A smirk, and the man turned from him, giving Stu's racing heart a chance to slow, letting him look around.

"Is this your house?"

A laugh. "Oh, heavens no. Don't worry, the owners won't be back for a few weeks. The phones are cut off as well, just in case you were wondering." The man crossed the tiled entryway with the impressive vaulted ceiling, ignoring the staircase that spiralled to a second floor loft to disappear down the hall toward the back of the house. Stu followed him, hands still tied behind his back, not knowing what else to do. He found the man in a large entertainment room with a big screen TV, standing behind a marble top bar, taking the foil off a chilled bottle of champagne. "Their adult son throws parties here often. I don't blame him, do you? It's such a nice house. Pool in the basement. He always gets laid. And usually drinks all their alcohol. He has one planned a week from today, but we'll be long gone by then." The cork came off the bottle with a loud pop, and he took down two flutes from where they hung above the bar, filling them. "It's been a while since you've had champagne, hasn't it Stu? Should we celebrate?"

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to drink champagne -or anything else, for that matter - with his hands still tied behind his back, but he nodded. "What are we celebrating?"

"Your successful journey, Stu. The end of your test. You passed, with flying colours. Congratulations." He lifted both flutes and clinked them together lightly, then pressed one to Stu's lips, tilting it carefully to let him take a swallow. It was delicious, he had to admit.

"Thank you... so what happens now?"

"That depends on you, but we'll go into that more later. There are a few things you need to know about, some... behind the scenes information, I'll call it. The first and most important thing being that you are, essentially, now dead." Stu must have flinched at the words, because the man chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't look so stricken, Stu. I told you I wasn't going to hurt you. I didn't invest all this time into you for such a wasteful end, surely you must realize that by now."

"But you said in the van... that you could still kill me. If you didn't like my answer...."

"Could, Stu. Could. Not would. Are you saying you didn't answer me truthfully?"

He gave a soft, helpless laugh, lowering his head. "Everything I've told you has been the truth. Including asking you to kiss me."

He saw the man lean closer, felt his hand reach out to cup his face, draw it up to look at him. "What about more than that?"

Stu wet his lips, meeting blue eyes with his own. "You know I want it. Everything. I need it. I need... I need you."

A smile, and the man leaned over the bar more to reward him with another kiss, warm and promising, and he moaned and leaned into it, flicking his tongue against those lips he'd thought about so many times, encouraging more. He tried to follow when the man pulled back, almost knocking over one of the flutes of champagne, and the man caught it, chuckling softly. "Careful, Stu. No need to be so eager, I'll give you everything you want when we're done here. Would you like more champagne?"

He nodded, and the man rounded the bar to stand against his back, slipping an arm around him and lifting the glass to his lips. Stu swallowed the sweetly tart drink, watching their reflection in the back splash of the bar, finding he liked the picture much more than he'd ever thought he would.

The man followed his gaze to the mirror, but a soft smile was the only indication that he'd noticed what Stu was looking at. "Now, back to what we were talking about. As I mentioned before, you are now essentially dead. This is also why you are in your underwear, in case you were wondering. I unfortunately needed your clothing. And your wallet and cell phone. I hope you don't mind too terribly."

"To make me dead?"

"Exactly. Tomorrow morning, at Donny's garage in Baltimore - "

"My uncle Donny?"

"God catch, Stu. I couldn't ever pull one over on you, could I? Yes, your uncle, the one who told you that you were a good for nothing waste of space - yes, I heard that phone call. Your ever so darling uncle will go to his garage, and he will find the charred remains of a body in his grease pit. One wearing your clothes, carrying your wallet. Missing a number of his teeth, conveniently enough, but matching your blood type, your height, and your general appearance, or at least what's left of him. He'll even be wearing your wedding band."

"I left my wedding band at home."

"Yes, and I retrieved it when I dropped off the locker key." He chuckled, and lifted the glass to Stu's lips again. He swallowed awkwardly, coughing as the bubbles fizzed up his nose, and the man patted him lightly on the back as he continued to speak. "There will be a note, of course. Typed on your computer, with a digital copy saved to your laptop. Printed from your printer, with a copy mailed to dear Kelly. Your signature too, Stu. I'm very good at signatures."

He shook his head slowly, watching the man. "Why are you doing this?"

"Change, Stu. You hated your life. I've freed you from it. The world will think that you are dead, unless you truly want to tell them otherwise. You still could, of course. There might be a few tough questions for you to answer, like how the dead man in the grease pit came to be wearing your clothes and carrying your wallet, but if you still want to be Stuart Shepard, you can be."

"And if I don't want to be Stu Shepard? What happens then?"

A slow smile, warm and promising. "Why, anything you want, Stu. Anything at all."

Stu considered the thought for a long moment, watching the man. "Why do you say my name so often?"

He gave a soft chuckle. "Partially habit, I'm afraid. It's a negotiator's tactic. Psychologist's tactic. Helps you connect with the person you're talking to. Helps make it personal. But besides that, I like the way your name feels in my mouth, Stu. Very much."

"Do you, John?"

He earned another smile from that, and the man's fingers stroked over his cheek. "Yes. And I like the way that sounds on your lips as well. I recommend that whatever you choose, you still go by Stu. It's easier, that way. Change the surname, keep the given. My name is actually John, you know. It always has been. It surprised me that you never directly asked me to tell it to you."

"I didn't think you would," Stu replied.

"Just like you don't think that I'll untie you if you ask?" He leaned into him, pressing his lips to the soft hollow just behind his ear, then dragging the tip of his tongue slowly over his lobe, over the scarred and damaged cartilage from where the man had shot him, so long ago. "Why don't you ask me, Stu?"

He watched the man in the mirror for a moment, but let his eyes fall closed to the pleasure. "John, will you please untie me?"

"So polite. So obedient, Stu. I don't have to tell you how much I like that." Lips pressed softly to the corner of his jaw, and then he felt the knots at his wrists tugged undone, the cords set on the bar. Stu gave a soft sigh of pleasure, and rubbed his wrists where the cord had dug into them, smiling a little as the man caught his hands to help, gently rubbing first one wrist, and then the other. "So, now that you're untied, Stu, what are you going to do?"

He hadn't particularly thought about that, but reached for the stem of his champagne glass, lifting it. "I think I'd like to toast with you, John." The man gave him a curious smile, but lifted his glass. Stu returned the smile without hesitation. "To change. And finally meeting you face to face."

The man chuckled, but clinked his glass lightly against Stu's, watching him as he sipping it. "You're very refreshing, Stu, when you're not lying. Has anyone ever told you that?"

Stu drained his glass and set it down, then shook his head. "No. I think they all found me boring."

"You're not boring." The man looked a little displeased at that, and leaned in suddenly to catch his mouth in a fierce kiss, voice a little rough against his mouth. "Not boring at all."

Stu shivered under the onslaught, following the man as he tried to pull back, though this time he let Stu catch his mouth, let him kiss him, taste him, hot and hard and more than a little desperate, moaning softly against John's mouth. Truthfully, Stu wasn't quite sure when he had stopped agonizing over the issue of gender between them, sometime between this moment and the first time he'd jerked off to this man's voice. And he wasn't even particularly sure he'd ever consider a man for any kind of sexual act now. No one other than this man, the one he'd yearned for and gotten himself off to thoughts of so many times that he couldn't even count them any more.

"What is your reward, John?" he asked softly as he drew back, searching the blue eyes that looked on him with warmth and amusement, but more than a little desire as well.

"My reward?"

"For helping me bring about this change, John. For making an honest man out of me. You gave me my reward in the van... what reward can I give to you?"

The man's eyebrow's quirked slightly, and he reached for his champagne glass, finishing it. "Anything you'd like to give me, Stu. My reward is simply to have you here with me, finally."

Somehow, that response turned him on more than any other would have. He stepped forward, a little boldly, to slip his arms up around his neck, tangle his fingers in short blonde hair, to press his body against him. He felt the man's hands come to rest lightly on his hips, keeping him in place, his gaze appreciative. "John, I want to give you everything."

His eyes narrowed slightly, just perceptibly, the only expressive reaction to his words. "Everything, Stu? Do you know what you're offering me?"

"Yes."

"Your body, your mind? Your life?"

He swallowed hard. "And my love."

That got a bigger response, surprise he hadn't expected the man to show, though it was quickly schooled away. "I love how passionate you are, Stu. I always have. So yes, I think I'll take you up on that offer." He leaned in to brush his lips against Stu's, warm and lingering, voice suddenly rough with the desire he'd been holding back, which sent a shudder of need straight to Stu's cock. "Let's go upstairs."

 

He was silent and more than a little nervous as he followed John up the staircase that spiralled around the foyer. The master bedroom was quite possibly bigger than his apartment back in New York, with a massively large, inviting looking king sized bed, a settee in front of a small fireplace, a huge bay window that seemed to be some kind of breakfast nook. A half open door on one wall led what looked like an impressively opulent bathroom. "Are you sure we can be here?"

John chuckled softly, glancing back at him. "Trust me, Stuart. I've been here many times. These people own so much property they can't even keep track of it. And don't worry, the sheets are clean." He stepped forward suddenly, hands sliding around Stu's hips as he pulled him close, leaning in to catch his mouth, warm and possessive. It was something Stu quickly found he liked very much, being kissed, rather than kissing someone. Women always expected to be kissed, even if they took the initiative to instigate this kiss. It wasn't like that kissing John, and he found he'd never felt so throughly claimed and possessed, so completely wanted just by being kissed by someone before.

He gave a soft sigh against his mouth as the man finally drew back. "Oh, god...."

John nuzzled his jaw slowly, breath warm against his ear, thumbs stroking slow circles on his hipbones through the thin cotton of his boxers. "You like that, Stu?"

He closed his eyes, drawing a shivering breath, arching closer to him and letting his hands stroke up his arms and over his shoulders, fingers tangling again in the sandy blonde hair that turned out to be as soft as it looked. "Yes...."

"Is gender going to be an issue?"

He swallowed, and shook his head slowly. "It was at first. Didn't quite know what to think of myself, the fact that I wanted you as much as I did. Even before you told me to... to touch myself, you already did things to me... fuck, I never expected to want you so fucking badly. No, gender isn't an issue, not anymore."

"Thank you for being so honest with me, Stu." John's lips closed over his poor damaged earlobe again, sucking, teasing it with his teeth, and Stu tilted his head back almost as a reflex, giving him better access, yielding to him. "I won't hurt you, I promise you that. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," he breathed, shivering as the lips started to kiss down his neck, as the hands on his hips smoothed up over his sides, slipping under his undershirt to stroke his chest, toy with his nipples. He gave a soft whimper, fingers tightening in his hair, urging more. It turned him on more than he'd expected, feeling those strong, nimble fingers rubbing over his chest, his mouth sucking at the crook of his neck, nipping teasingly at the skin as his fingers pinched and tugged lightly at a nipple, the combination of teasing sensations sending a shudder of arousal straight to his cock. "God, more," he whispered, arching closer, hips rocking against him, though he found the tease of friction against his trapped erection was more maddening than it was a relief.

The answering groan it pulled from John's lips was much more satisfying, the way it made him stroke one hand down to cup his ass, pulling him more tightly against him, and Stu could feel the man's erection pressed against his thigh, as hard as his own. The mouth on his shoulder bit down a little harder, and he cried out breathlessly, hips bucking up against him. John sucked gently on the spot he'd just bitten, soothing it with soft kisses, voice warm. "You're very hard for me, Stu. I love it."

"Always for you," he whispered, letting his hips grind slowly, tentatively against him, then a little harder as the hand on his ass clenched deliciously at his flesh.

"You feel amazing," the man murmured, rocking slowly back against him, drawing back just a little to pull Stu's undershirt over his head, then returned to covering his skin with kisses, sucking and nipping at his collarbone, hands smoothing over and cupping his ass, kneading slowly at it. The words were the same as he'd heard so many times, but so different now, being here with him in person, grinding against him, feeling his hands stroking over him, his lips on his skin.

"So do you," he murmured in reply, finding his hands stroking restlessly over the man's back, over his shoulders and sides, craving more sensation. "Would you take this off for me?"

John chuckled softly, pulling back to look at him appreciatively. "You've never asked me to undress before."

He wet his lips. "Isn't it only fair? For how many times you've told me to?"

The man stretched out his arms, watching him with a little bemused smile. "Go ahead, then, if you want me unclothed."

Stu caught his bottom lip between his teeth, watching his hands as he smoothed them up his chest, catching hold of the collar of his shirt and undoing the first button. The man stood still, patient, but he could feel his breath quicken a little as he tentatively undid another button. Suddenly he wanted more, and started to work at the rest of them almost furiously, yanking the shirt open and out of his pants, leaning in to kiss his throat as he pulled the shirt over his shoulders and off his arms. He didn't wear an undershirt, and Stu let his hands roam over him hungrily as he sucked at his throat, nipping at the skin, taking it all in - the feel of strength under his fingers, shoulders broad and hips slender instead of the other way around. He dropped kisses in a wet trail up his neck, breathing in deeply of the musky, masculine scent, the hint of cologne, the way his groans, low and throaty, thrummed through his chest under his fingers.

"You like what you feel, Stu?" John's voice was husky, fingers stroking over his hips and ass again, one travelling slowly up his spine to tangle in his hair. "Does it turn you on? Make you want more?"

"God, yes," he breathed, and moved to catch the man's mouth with his own, more demanding this time, rocking against him as his tongue pushed past his lips, tasting warmth and champagne. His fingers slipped to the man's belt, trembling only a little as he tugged it undone, unzipping his pants and slipping a hand between them to cup his cock, drawing a sharp breath at the feel of him, palming him slowly. He was rewarded by the way he rocked up against his hand, surging forward to catch his mouth again, nipping at Stu's bottom lip.

"You feel what you do to me? Every time I've called you, Stu, it's been like this. Your voice turning me on, your sweet little moans making me so hard. You see why I couldn't stop? Why I couldn't stay away from you?"

Stu drank up the words, head falling back and eyes closing in pleasure as the man rained hungry kisses on his neck and throat. He slipped his hand into the man's boxers, curling them around his erection and stroking more firmly, rewarded with a breathless cry of pleasure, with a sharp nip to his collarbone.

"Fuck, Stu, it feels so good. Don't stop, you're so perfect. So good at that, just like I always imagined." John's hands caught at the elastic of his boxers, dragging them down his hips and over the head of his cock to fall and pool around his ankles, fingers wrapping around his dick to match his strokes.

Stu rocked up against his hand, crying out at the pleasure of it before he could stop himself. "Oh god, John. More, please..."

"You like that, Stu? You know how long I've wanted to do this? Stroke you, make you writhe against me just like you're doing now? Make you cry and gasp and moan?" John's lips found his again, kissing him breathlessly, still speaking against his lips. "You know how long I've wanted to feel your cock in my hand, feel you stroke me like this? Thought about this every time I called you, every time I made you come with my voice. Every time I came to the sound of your moans, thinking about everything I wanted to do to you."

Stu drew a shivering breath against his lips, his own voice huskier than expected when he spoke. "Show me. Show me everything. I want it all, please..."

His lover drew back, pulling from his touch so suddenly that it made him whimper in disappointment, and he let himself look at John's body, really look, taking in the masculinity of his form, the sight of his cock, flushed and erect, escaping from boxers and slacks that barely clung to his hips. "Are you sure, Stu?"

He wet his lips and nodded, stepping forward to catch his mouth again, firm and deliberate, fingers catching his pants and pulling them down with his shorts to fall to the floor. One of John's arms slipped around his waist, pulling him against him, and the shock of his bare skin against his made him gasp and arch closer, feeling his cock trapped between their bodies, against the warm firmness of John's stomach, brushing against the length of his lover's erection as he rocked against him slowly. He was half aware of John pulling back the covers of the bed, and even that was erotic, the thought of fucking in a stranger's bed, decadent and opulent. He pulled back and stretched out in the middle of it, holding his arms for the man, who smiled, eyes running over him more than a little appreciatively before joining him, kneeling half over him and claiming his mouth with more kisses, hips rocking slowly against his, pressing him down into the softness of the bed.

His lover pulled back and reached for the bedside table, pulling out a couple of condoms and a bottle of KY, and Stu felt himself tense despite himself, anxiety mixing with mindless need in the pit of his stomach. But he knew he wanted this, something that had already played out in his head on dozens of sleepless nights while he stroked his cock, letting his fingers play over his balls and tease the place between his thighs where he so badly wanted this man's cock. It was something he hadn't even told John, that he fingered himself sometimes when they spoke on the phone, his middle finger slick with lube, easing inside of himself but never enough, never deep enough to appease the ache.

"Don't worry," John said, catching his eye with a bemused smirk, "This is mine, not theirs." He ignored the condoms for now, fingers closing around the KY as he kissed slowly down his chest, pausing briefly to suck at one erect nipple, teasing the sensitive nub of flesh gently with his teeth. When he reached Stu's stomach, he flicked his tongue lightly at his bellybutton with a little appreciative noise. "I've always liked how trim you keep yourself, Stu. There's nothing sexier than a man who takes care of himself. I loved watching you do sit-ups in your last apartment." He moved to kiss down the slight line of muscle at his hip that lead to his groin, nuzzling the base of his erection, teasing it with little flicks of his tongue. "You trim here, don't you?"

"Yes," he breathed, fingers clenching in the sheets at the tease of sensation, fighting the urge to rock up against his mouth. He heard his lover give an appreciative moan as he licked up the length of his erection, sucking gently at his tip, his hand stroking over his inner thighs and sack. He found himself very glad that John had already gotten him off back in the van, because he was certain that he wouldn't have lasted this long otherwise from the tease of his hands, his lips, his mouth.

He felt his lover pause for just a moment, then take his head in his mouth again as one slick finger pressed back between his ass cheeks, stroking his opening, massaging gently. He rocked back against it before he could stop himself, gasping at the shock of sensation, craving so much more. "Yes, oh god please...."

John pulled back with a soft noise of surprise as he pressed the finger slowly into him, massaging gently, looking up at him. "You've done this before, Stu."

"No," he moaned, breathless. "I mean - yes, but - not sex, just...." he gave a soft cry as his finger pressed deeper, crooking a little, just brushing against that aching point of heat that he'd never quite been able to manage himself. "Oh fuck yes - !"

"Just what, Stu? Tell me?" He kept teasing slowly looking up at him with a dark smile, watching him gasp and thrash under him on the bed.

"Just one finger. My own, when I'd talk to you. I couldn't - I couldn't help it."

His finger pulled back, and he ran his tongue slowly up the underside of his erection before pressing two slowly back into him, slick, thicker, stretching him carefully, making him gasp and cry out softly. "While we were on the phone, Stu? I'm impressed. I really am. You liked it?"

"So much," Stu whimpered, hands clenched in tight fists at the sheets, breath coming in trembling gasps. "Oh god, so much. But I wanted you. I wanted you to be fucking me. I want you now."

"Shhh... no need to rush, Stu. I made a promise that I wouldn't hurt you and I intend to keep it. So just relax... I'll take care of everything."

Stu found himself almost whining as the fingers continued to pump slowly into him, scissoring, stretching him, at the ache of it that somehow only made him want more. "God, John, please...."

"Relax," his lover breathed again, pulling back only to fold a third finger with the other two, even more carefully, pressing them slowly deeper. Stu bit his bottom lip and tried to breathe deep, tried to relax and take it, caught between the ache of the invasion and the pleasure of being filled. He felt his lover sucking at his head again, warm and gentle, swirling his tongue around him and it helped, the pleasure making him adjust, relax, crave more.

"I'm ready. Please. Oh god, please, I need it." He grabbed for one of the condoms as John moved back up, tearing it open with his teeth and rolling him on it with trembling fingers, stroking him slowly as he did. He watched the man do the same to him, arching up into his hand despite himself.

"Easier clean up this way," the man murmured, finding the KY again and squeezing an ample amount onto his fingers, stroking it over his own cock. Then he urged Stu's knees up by his sides, grabbing one of the pillows from the head of the bed and helping Stu arch to wriggle it under his hips. He leaned in for a slow, deep kiss, though Stu could feel him faintly trembling against him with need - or was it himself that was trembling? "Press back against me as I take you," he breathed, flicking his tongue against his bottom lip. Then he pulled back, kneeling against his ass, and slipped an arm under his hips to help support him, watching him through narrowed eyes as he started to rock into him.

"Fuck - !" It was hard not to tense up at the invasion, and Stu drew sharp, deep breaths as he fought to adjust, whimpering as his lover's fingers closed around his cock, stroking him slowly, helping him relax once again. The ache of it was more vivid than he could have imagined, the intensity of sensation overwhelming him more than any discomfort, but once John's hips rested flush with his ass he held still, breath in sharp pants, letting him adjust.

"Don't stop," Stu gasped, and was rewarded by a slow, careful rock of the hips, the head of his cock just rubbing against that ache deep inside him that made him arch back and whimper, eyes closing to the intensity of the pleasure that shot up his spine. "Oh god, don't stop. It's so good."

He felt his lover's hand run hungrily over his stomach and chest, felt the desire barely contained behind his touch, behind the slow, deliberate rock of his hips. "You feel so good, Stu. So tight... oh god, you're so fucking good." A tremor, a roughness in the voice that was normally so composed, even more desire evident than when he'd heard the man come to climax on the phone. It made him crave more, made him want the man to lose control.

"Give it to me," he gasped. "Everything you've wanted. Tell me about it, and give it to me."

"Give it to you?" A harsh, almost broken laugh, punctuated by a harder thrust that made Stu cry out in pleasure. "You want to know everything I've wanted, everything I've thought about? How I've watched you for so long, watched this sweet little ass of yours, how badly I've wanted to fuck you? How much I've wanted to make you squirm under me like this with my cock deep inside you? Fuck, Stu, you have no idea." He kept moving harder, a little faster now, words husky and breathless, driving a hard shock of pleasure through Stu with each thrust, a resulting throaty moan from his throat. "You have no idea how much self control it took... god, to keep myself from going to you, from just breaking into your apartment and pushing you up against the wall, ravishing you...." He shifted against him, leaning over him to tear at his mouth, angling deeper into him, crying out with him. "Fuck, Stu, just wanted to bend you over your kitchen table, yank those pretty Italian trousers down and fuck you, fuck you until you screamed, make you blow your load all over the table - "

"Yes - !" Stu's hands caught at his back, bucking up against him as much as he could, shuddering helplessly under the onslaught of words and sensation. He returned the kisses breathlessly, crying out against his mouth, nipping roughly at his lips. "God, harder! Oh fuck, John! Do it! Fuck, make me come!"

His lover's mouth dropped to his neck, thrusts hard and almost frantic, Stu's cock pressed between them, rubbing against the firm expanse of his stomach with each thrust. John nipped sharply at his neck, breath hot and moist on sweat-streaked skin, each thrust building the uncontrollable pleasure of it, hard and fast and overwhelming everything but the feel of him.

"My pretty little Stu," His voice was little more than a growl now, his words catching on breathless cries of pleasure. "Make you come harder than anyone else has ever - ever made you come. Let me hear you. Come on - !" His hips snapped into him, hard, almost rough, and with a few quick thrusts it was all over for him, all the layers of passion and pleasure piling up, breaking free in the most intense rush of sensation he'd ever felt, rushing through every inch of his body as he came, hot and slick in spurt after spurt, wailing out his pleasure with no thought of control or propriety.

"Oh fuck - yes!" He could hear his lover's exultant cry as he bucked deep into him, fingers digging in hard to his shoulder and hip as he shuddered against him, crying out his orgasm into his neck. It was more overwhelming, more beautiful than anything Stu had ever experienced. He clung to him almost helplessly, drawing sharp gasps of breath as his mind reeled with the combination of sensations, tremors of pleasure slowly fading, letting his head fall back against the pillow with a breathy groan.

He heard a soft chuckle, his lover's lips pressing gently to his shoulder, puffs of breath cool against his skin. "That was absolutely amazing, Stu."

Stu let one hand, trembling only slightly, stroke over the rather messy tufts of blonde hair. "Been waiting over a year for that."

John pulled back to look at him with a smile, fingers stroking over the side of his face. "I hope I didn't disappoint."

He laughed, throaty and carefree. "Disappoint? John, I need the worlds biggest fucking cigarette right about now. That was so wild."

His lover smiled, watching him almost wonderingly, and Stu felt himself calm, feeling unexpectedly cherished under the gaze of those blue eyes, under the voice that spoke, soft and tender. "Thank you, Stu."

"Thank you," he breathed softly in response, sighing softly against the lips that pressed to his, returning the kiss slowly and warmly, more tender than he could have ever thought possible between two men, his heart aching with joy when his mouth was released.

"Let me clean up," John murmured softly, pulling back carefully and doing so, curling around him in bed afterward. Stu ached deliciously from the sex, which only added to the completely boneless, sated satisfaction that claimed his body. He had never been one for cuddling or talking or even really staying awake after sex, but he found himself somehow craving it now, not wanting the intimacy to end. He tilted his face to receive soft kisses, stroking fingers through his hair, warm and lazy and gentle.

"Was this the choice I had to make?" he asked quietly, watching his lover. "What you said in the garage... that I needed to be sure?"

His lover's eyes darted away, suddenly a little uneasy. "Part of it, yes. The rest of it is whether or not you're sure you want to stay with me."

"Of course I want to - "

"Don't be so quick to answer, Stu," John's voice was unexpectedly somber, blue eyes holding his seriously. "Do you know what I am? What I do?"

Stu's eyebrows knit together a little. "Besides trying to reform people with a phone call and the subtle application of a sniper rifle?"

John gave a soft laugh, relaxing a little. "I'm a hit man, Stu. Usually for money, sometimes for personal satisfaction. Occasionally both. You were one of the second types, don't worry, none of your clients were that rich or that pissed off with you. And there have been a few other survivors, but none like you." His fingers trailed slowly along Stu's jaw, and he let his eyes fall closed briefly at the pleasure of the touch.

"I can handle that," he said softly, feeling the man's thumb trace his lips.

"My plan right now is to spend some time in Europe," John continued, voice low and soft. "I've only taken two contracts in the past year. I've only needed to, I have plenty of money set aside. But it's a very lonely life, you must understand. I don't even meet my clients. It was something I could deal with, for a time. Until I met you."

"I'll go with you," Stu replied, watching him speak, drinking in his features, watching his lips move.

John smiled, leaning down to brush his lips with his own. "I can't ever entirely start over, Stu. I have certain... obligations that will call me back to work from time to time. And my work is not without risk."

"But you're the best...."

He chuckled softly. "Why thank you, Stu. But there are still risks. I will do my best to stay clear of it, and we can make a life together somewhere. Pretend to be like everyone else. And I'll make sure that you are taken care of, no mater what. Is that a change you would like to make with your life?"

Stu was silent for a long moment, watching him, trying to take in everything he'd said. But he couldn't see or sense any deception in him, any ill intentions. "If I agree... can we have lots of this mind blowingly amazing sex?"

John laughed, relaxing instantly. "That's part and parcel, Stu."

"Then it's a deal." He arched up to kiss him warmly, giving a soft, happy sigh against his lips. "Mm, just one more question...."

"Yes, Stu?"

He grinned. "Do you happen to hang on to my cigarettes?"

~~~~finish~~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to Napalmiris on LJ, whose lovely, sexy Phonebooth short dragged me kicking and screaming out of my reservations against writing Phonebooth slash and inspired this piece.


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